He Takes Me On Wild Adventures

Here he is, my friend said, tearing off a pink silk scarf with a flourish. I was confused. This was just a storybook, right? Don’t you recognize him? She asked me. On the cover was a stern looking old guy. I shook my head “no”. Don’t you have dreams about him? I began to laugh, and could not stop. Not that guy! I told her. He looks a hundred. We are twelve. I dream of him nightly, she told me. He takes me to wild adventures. I believe she is certifiable now. Maybe she is. He is Chandu, the Magician, she says. As if that means something. I beg her to loan the book to me, but she says “not tonight!” “Tonight we are flying a magic carpet to Egypt.” I am torn. Should I stay over or run like a hungry cheetah?